


All In

by Daisie2819



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, I will give chapter specific warning as well, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisie2819/pseuds/Daisie2819
Summary: A year after the event of Mount Massive and the Riot, a new hospital of sorts houses all those effected by the terrors brought in from the doctors there. Waylon Park is both a patient and an employee of the sanctuary, as well as his many friends that he has gained during his recovery journey. Hosting a weekly gamenight, he's finally pulled out the big guns. . .Dungeons and Dragons!
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Party of Five

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'll be quick. This is my first ever posting of fic and I really hope its well enjoyed. I apologize if I ever go back in and edit some things, but i would like the work to stand out as well as I can make it!
> 
> Please Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter specific warnings  
> Starts with the DnD characters  
> DnD Fight Scene  
> DnD Character Death

The group of travelers pulled themselves forward through the desert. The distance had been far and quiet, none of these few bringing much thought to the others around them since the waking hours found them all stranded here together. All they knew was that the human held a mysterious map that perhaps told of a way to safety.

A scream broke the silence.

Everyone spun to find the source of the noise, only to be caught off guard when they realized it was the dragonborn within their own group.

“This is ridiculous! Are you are really planning to be this quiet the entire way back to civilization? I can’t fucking stand it!” he complained, smoke pouring from his mouth and nostrils as if he was ready to burst. “Since no one else is speaking up, guess I’ll lead the way! Names Thexus Mania.”

Everyone initially stood and stared at the scarred up dragonborn, the burns on his face blending into his red scales and tendril-like hair. The outburst alone was startling enough, let alone just how amped the being already was.

Someone breathed.

“I’m Joseph Landon,” the human holding the map, acting as the lead spoke up. “I guess I was just nervous after I found the map in my pocket, this whole situation is strange. . . but you’re right, it would be better if we talked.”

Finally, the thick air dissipated, allowing everyone else to eventually introduce themselves. Everyone relaxing as they looked over the rough looking human; choppily cut blond locks, barely enough of a beard to bring attention to, and obviously shorter than the rest of them. If he could respond to the sparking dragonborn, than so could the others.

“Altonas. . . Altonas Galandel,” the drow pulled his hood down to show his face and sighed, “I’m not exactly a well loved face around here, I just always thought it would be best to be quiet. . . but since im stuck with all of you, I guess words are important.” He pulled his hood back to relieve himself from the suns rays. But everyone was able to look over the uncharacteristically strongly built drow, the glowing eyes still piercing under the hood.

“Mantis,” the much older half elf behind the group spoke up, “You all can call me Mantis.” He held himself tense, hand on his sword; not letting up on his nerves just because Thexus had a fit. The graying hairs and pointed features really drew in to show just how long this creature has been around.

“All y’all can call me Lam!” an elfish man spoke up, much too excitedly after the threatening aura of the half elf. “I ain’t gonna give away too much but lets just say I enjoy a change of personal scenery every now and ‘gain.” He smiled brightly, allowing his eyes to flash a change of color momentarily right before the group.

Something tells them that hes not the only one with secrets.

The awkward exchanges finally let the group breathe a sigh of relief. Winds picked up and whipped around them again, letting it be known that they should get moving again; the sun may be arriving soon.

“I guess I’ll keep the lead going,” Joseph started, looking at the map again and resituating himself, “Hopefully by morning we’ll at least see the nearest city.”

The group grumbled but complied as they pushed forward.

Nevertheless, the human was right, and as the sun began to breach over the edge of the sands, so do the nearest reaches of the city.

Joseph re-awoke a spark in his step and pushed his tired legs faster again, “Its just a little further, we can make it without stopping.”

“Ugh, I guess that better than nothing,” Mantis spoke up and moved a little faster to catch up with the human, needing to see for himself if this human was actually true to his word. Almost seemingly saddened by it, the half elf found Joseph was right and the tiny village was within a mile of walking.

“Finally,” Thexus sighed, “We better get a damn inn too. I’m not sleeping in the dirt any longer.”

The group chuckled in unison, glancing over the dusted and dirtied dragonborn with an ironic humor. He didn’t exactly look the type to beg for clean sheets and comforting walls. But they all seemed to let it go, understanding that even for the roughest souls, this has been quite a walk.

At least, most of them understood. . .

Mantis grunted and motioned toward the city, “We’re so close, theres no point in resting around. Hell, we don’t really need to worry about ‘Jojo’ here anymore. I think I can find the way myself.” He took off with a kick, powering past the group and ignoring colorful shouts being placed at him.

“Now wait a minute, we’re all going together,” the mysterious Lam tried to catch up with him when something caught his leg, causing a tumble and crash. “Well god damn! What was- OH IT’S A HAND!” He quickly kicked and struggled away what he could.

Mantis turned and grinned, the chill of a fight bouncing through him. Within a moment, he changed from his lead and drew his sword, swiping out to cut right through the arm protruding from the sandy depths beneath them, “Finally, something to do around here.”

More beasts pulled from the sand and surrounded the group, skeletons in varying degrees of decay, all screeching at the travelers as they readied to kill.

“YOU COULD HAVE TOOK MY LEG OFF MANTIS!”

“Yeah yeah, I didn’t though. Just get to fighting, you shifty freak.”

Joseph stumbled and moved toward the group, pulling his mace at ready but watching the group closely for injuries, “No time for fighting each other, worry about those bags of bones!”

Mantis took charge, barreling headfirst into the skeletons, his sword swinging and making deep marks in them. However, his mass explosions of attacks drew the monsters to him, making him the main target. The half elf didn’t seem to care, taking focus on the one before him that he got a quick one on.

Altonas took his short sword from his hip, turning to make his mark on the moving monsters beside him, “I know how the likes of you work.” He moved fast to take out the skeleton with ease, readying for the beast to settle itself; only a second hit will be necessary to take it down. He looked around the crowd quickly to count how many there were; about 6, 3 of which were crowding Mantis. Altonas readied himself to move again.

Lam worked to get himself back, luckily nothing left a mark, his skin seemed to flash suddenly as he struggled, showing a white tone underneath; inhumanly white.

“Ugh, oh my god. Mantis! They’re ganging up on you!” Lam shouted, struggling to his feet with his eyes still dazed.

The dragonborn growled, a skeleton pushing through his personal space and he literally got all fired up. With a puff of smoke, the bones had no idea what hit them when a blast of fire poured from the dragonborn’s mouth. His rage festered in his flame and the skeleton crumbled before him.

“HELL YEAH!”

Joseph chuckled at the dragonborn’s cheer before returning to the fight before him. Checking over the crowd as he made his move to help, mace already out and a monster in sight.

As the half elf focused on the initial skeleton, he took less notice to the ones closing in on him, finding himself cut deep by one of the approaching ones, he huffed and held his wound, stepping back slightly. Then another closed the space beside him again, leaving him without any room for freedom.

Altonas started towards one of the skeletons surrounding Mantis, managing a good cut with his shortsword, damaging the bones. However, despite the attack, the monsters stayed in on Mantis.

“Ah, damn. Don’t worry Mantis, we’re getting to ya.”

With himself finally on two feet again, Lam finally was able to pull out his Rapier and move around carefully to sneak up behind one of the skeletons and strike true. A fast and careful pierce taking down the skeleton in one hit as Lam grinned with excitement; finally, able to help his new friends.

The human rushed the other skeleton, busting through the rest of it with his mace with ease, stumbling to a stand as he looked towards Mantis with a smile.

“Don’t let these bags of bones scare you, we got your back!” Joseph spoke, ready to help out now.

Mantis sneered and looked back at Joseph, “I got this you pricks! I don’t need any help.” He shifted and moved past the skeleton, only getting himself a slice through his arm; trying his best to get out of being cornered.

“Ah, fuck! Mantis, let us help you! You’re gonna get yourself killed!” Thexus roared, smoke still brimming from his jaw. He headed towards the group, ready to keep the death count on the skeletons side.

“I know what im doing!” He raised his sword again

“MANTIS!” the party shouted in unison

\---------------

Before any noise of reassurance could be made, a table was literally flipped and knocked towards half the players. Scattering dice and figures everywhere while the sloppily drawn on map slid to the floor.

“MANERA!” A scarred man stood up and exclaimed, the table having been flung at him.

“This is idiotic! Everything’s luck based, what’s the point!?” Manera complained, standing over the flipped table as he grumbled. “I’m done with this game night.”

And with that, Frank Manera, once known as the Cannibal back in the Mount Massive Riot, tore off to the outdoors. Leaving Waylon’s on-site housing to make his way back to the sanctuary.

Waylon, being a patient, guest, and occasionally worker of the newest sanctuary for mount massive riot survivors has found that it was easiest to stay within the closed community. Money not really being much of a worry anymore, the construction found it suitable to build up on-site housing as patients became more reliable to reach the rest of the world. Most involved group housing, as they worked together as roommates to function as a household. Waylon however, has been mostly functioning on his own for a year, leaving him with one of the albeit, smaller houses, to himself.

Waylon sighed, wringing his hands as he slowly calmed himself down as the sudden reaction had launched his anxiety into orbit. Soon enough he was level, the room had stopped spinning, and he could focus at the new issue at hand. . . the mess Frank had made with his tantrum.

“Fuck. . .I guess we need to call it a night. . .and you’re gonna be down a party member if you want to keep playing,” Waylon sighed as he begun to clean up the dice and gather his dm screen.

“Of course we do!” Dennis, the creator of Lam, started “And we can find someone to replace Manera, I’m sure of it!” He kneeled down, helping Waylon with the many small pieces.

“You’re so excited as if its going to be easy,” continued Pyro, the creator of Thexus. “I know who you’re thinking of and that stick in the mud ain’t gonna leave the craft room.” Pyro brushed his half head of head back a bit, the other side of his face matching his dragonborn’s; scarred with burns that leave his left eye useless.

“Oh come on, you know he’d love to, he’s just nervous.”

“Yeah, if nervous means pissed off, then sure.”

“Enough you two,” Billy, the creator of Altonas, spoke finally, re-centering his wheelchair as he looked over them both. “Rather than jumping to conclusions, why don’t we just talk to him?” He often seemed to act the elder of the other two when they began to bicker.

“Who are you guys even thinking of asking?” Waylon questioned as he stood up again, holding his recollected bag of dice.

The group looked around slightly as if it was maybe just dawning on them that maybe they shouldn’t. A silence built up before Pyro gave in and grumbled.

“Eddie Gluskin.”


	2. The Reluctant Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Eddie was easy, the question is if his company will be pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE HASNT BEEN BETA'D  
> There's a chance i may come back to edit it so i apologize in advance.
> 
> Chapter Specific Warnings  
> Mention of Violence/Injury  
> Anxiety

A machine whirred tirelessly within the back corner of the art room resting inside the larger facility. At the reigns was a large man, carefully sewing pieces of fabric together using a pattern he had made himself to fit his unusual frame. To him, there wasn’t much else happening around him, even though he did know that there were others in the room with him, but they were all working elsewhere, and so he was the only one to even take control of the sewing machines in the back, as well as most of the fabric.

“EDDIE!!!!!” a voice rang out from the doorway of the art room.

Eddie groaned but did not falter from his work, “Any chance you could maybe wait a moment, Dennis?” Without even looking he could register who would be the only person here that would cause such a scene.

“I guess so,” he said while wandering over, Pyro and Billy following shortly after, but much more quietly. “We have a question for you though when you’re ready.”

“I somewhat figured, you normally don’t take to just watching me sew,” Eddie smirked as he looked over to the others.

It took a few more minutes of time before he finished the last stitch and went about closing up the machine; knowing full well to treat it as if it were his own and keep it from being damaged. He folded his new garment carefully, it looked like a dress shirt of sorts, short sleeved to match the weather. Eddie then twisted to face the group more head on, not standing up just yet.

“I’m all ears now,” he smiled gently.

“Well, we know that you weren’t exactly keen on this before but. . .” Dennis thought a moment, taking time to figure out the best words.

“Manera had a hissy fit during our game night yesterday at Park’s place,” Pyro, impatient, interrupted first. “And we all voted yes on inviting you to join us now.”

Eddie paused and looked through the trio, looking for signs of sincerity. “Are you really sure. . .thats the best idea? Did you three actually ask. . .” he seems to fade off a bit, its not easy to tell what he’s thinking, but theres a feeling that he finds even saying Waylon’s name is taboo.

“You know that we’ve been asking you since the beginning, Waylon included.” Billy reassured, “not just us three idiots.”

“I know. . .that he’s said that but,” Eddie breathes, a shallow breath that’s then met his his hand move to rub over his mouth and cheek anxiously; specifically following the right side of his face where the scarring has healed.

“But nothing! I don’t know what sort of grudge you got spinning up in there, Ed, but its worth it to let it go!” Pyro cut in sharply, his words pointed to edge at Eddie.

His brows furrowed as he lifted his head from his hand, forgetting about his previous anxious motion, “Now just one minute,” Eddie pushed himself from his chair, reaching his full uncanny height that towered over everyone with ease, allowing him to look down as he grew irritated, “I hold no grudge toward Waylon Park and that’s despicable to even think I do. What sort of man do you think I am?”

“Good, then you can prove it to Waylon yourself,” Dennis beamed, unphased by his leering stature, “Next week during game night.”

The seeming stoic man blanched at that, Eddie was still tense, but something pushed him to relax; training or actual relief, it’s hard to tell.

“I guess I can’t talk you out of it,” Eddie responded finally, returning to his normal tone, “I will give it a shot, but if things seem to go downhill. . .”

“We promise not to let anything go haywire,” Billy reassured again, smiling gently.

“Yeah, you may be pure brawn here but we can drag you out of there easily!” Pyro boasted.

Eddie smirked and huffed, tilting his head a bit as he looked at Pyro incredulously with a lifted brow. Without a word though, he moved away, turning back around to gather his newly made garment, double checking that his machine was properly locked up before moving forward.

“Alright, I’m inclined to trust all of you then,” Eddie joked as he walked past them, “better get moving along to lunch then, I know at least two of you at slept in past breakfast.”

Dennis and Pyro scoff quietly and looked to each other, folding their arms in a bizarre unison.

Billy laughed, “You two are starting to hang around each other a little too much.” He backed up his wheelchair and carefully turned to leave the art room and make his way to the cafeteria ahead of them both, leaving them to fluster and bristle before they finally moved.

\------------

Waylon found his week going normally for the most part, gathering things for the next game night, thinking of possible turns for future pieces of the story as he progressed throughout the day; nothing out of the blue.

At least 3 days a week he’d find himself making his way to the facility a swift trail from his incredibly small and simple housing. The summer hair made the walk a breeze in the morning, so he couldn’t complain. The building was impressive and beautiful to walk up to, looking much like Mount Massive had wished it did. It gave off a bit of an expensive private school vibe, with a modern architecture twist, building itself in a bit of a ‘U’ shape to create a locked in courtyard.

The entrance was decorated is crafted cement and bricks, but looking to the doors, it was easy to tell this was a far more modern facility. Waylon took on inside these doors often and knew the process – sliding door, vestibule, second set of sliding doors, waiting room, wave to the greeter at the desk, through the metal detector, then in to find his office.

Waylon wasn’t there to give or take therapy today; nor did he really know much about how any of that worked, always finding it much harder to physically talk about things, he was a man of action and so. . . therapy was an odd point of his life now. A point he had gotten used to though. However, has he shown pretty good signs after 6 months he began to be allowed further and further leniency. He was never violent, not now, not at Mount Massive, not before; an argument he often found at odds with Lisa over. But it was past a year since then now, and with himself breaking from locked in patient to someone to check in on, he was able to find himself a job to keep his mind busy.

What job would always easily fit Waylon? Computers.

He essentially found himself as the tech manager at the facility, and even if at times he would have some tense moments, typing in code and lines, the act of programming and fixing up the technology helped ease his whirring brain.

Waylon walked with a limp through the halls, the chunk missing out of his ankle was mostly healed, but the missing muscle had permanently damaged his leg, and aches still shook him more often than not. His hair was chopped a bit carelessly to a spiked and undercut style, letting his blonde mess lift from his eyes with gel. And his disaster teen style didn’t end at his hair; Waylon sported a hoodie, jeans, and canvas shoe combo that made his age become a constant question. He didn’t mind the question though, it often brought an air of relieve to his fear that the scarring had marred him more than he had even thought, but he shook away those thoughts when he wrung his hands at his computer.

The work days were easy and mind numbing, he would get food in secret through the cafeteria, avoiding most patients overall. Even knowing his game night group would be easy to find, he knew who would be with them. They were all friends after all and besides, this was Waylon working, there was no need to get distracted for an hour.

And with that, the trip would ease out and he’d be back home again. His small lonely escape from everyone else. . .

2 more days.

\-------------

Mutual anxiety was raging between Waylon and Eddie as night neared on Friday.

Waylon could occupy himself with setting up, gathering snacks and an easy meal for his party members, but Eddie was without distraction. As the other three bonded and spoke about wanting to play, Eddie was left slightly behind them with scribbled nerves that left him gently teasing at the edges of his own made shirt; a mild comfort that he had control over.

Eddie hadn’t left since he made it out of the hospital and to the sanctuary, the wound radiating on his stomach was still often checked by nurses, but the other scarring had healed. But this wasn’t what had made him nervous; his wounds were never what he feared. It was the images and sounds that always replayed when he thought of the scars. He was so distracted with his own mental ramblings that he barely noticed that he had passed through all the thresholds of the facility without a pause.

No one had stopped him. This was completely allowed.

Within just a few more minutes, Pyro was stepping forward to knock of the door. Leading to Waylon opening the door and letting everyone in. He stood to the side, and while he knew this was coming, silence deafened the room when finally, Eddie was passing and standing just before Waylon. Natural action caused Waylon to close the door after Eddie stepped in, but now he was here, with the others. Let inside Waylon’s home like just another friendly face.

Pyro and Dennis moved ahead, not having immediately thought of the consequences here, but Billy held back at the archway, keeping mild watch.

Waylon was astonished and shocked. His height and looming stature were always the same, nothing inside or outside the asylum would change the fact that he was a monster of a man. He had to look upward toward him, and Waylon was not known for being short. Chills rushed through his body; he had had many overthought dreams about being able to catch up to this man once he found out he survived that horrifying injury.

_The dark room was lit awkwardly, the rope let his body drop, the pully system dodged and twisted, reversing the scene. Eddie was strung up with a pole piercing his abdomen. His last words echoed with what Waylon thought was his last breath._

_“We could have been beautiful”_

These memories haven’t surfaced that hard in a while, but it was expected. Flashes of the scenes during the riot and before the riot took off were something that plagued Waylon for months. Even now, while time has eased the initial impact, the imagery would crawl into his dreams at night like a relentless nightmare.

A nightmare that he lived through.

A smile pushed onto Waylon’s face as he looked up at Eddie, and god did he really have to look up. He was never considered a small man, being over six feet tall on his own, so finding himself feeling like a child was incredibly rare. Eddie had towered over him, at least a foot above him, leaving him either facing his chest or having to look up. Currently, Waylon chose the later to look less awkward.

“I’m really glad they finally talked you into joining game night. . .um, Gluskin.” Waylon edged on formalities, he was back at them anyways and this situation was more nerve-wracking than ever.

“. . .Eddie,” he began, “you may call me Eddie, darling.” The word slipped out before he could think it over, and he cringed, the clenched expression washing over his tense face. “Oh, Mr. Park I do apologize. . . Force of bad habits.”

“Hey now, honestly, don’t worry about it,” Waylon was casual about it, reassuring, “A word slip here or there won’t scare me off. I gotta admit, that nickname was the least of my worries back then.” Too casual. . .

“Now Waylon-“

“No, this is not for us to bicker over. What happened there was not of your control. A smoking gun may have been the weapon, but I’m pretty sure the ones behind bars are usually the ones holding it. We are here to play games for therapy; relax, chat, have some food, pretend to be normal.”

Eddie found himself unable to argue with the smaller man and breathed out gently, running a hand through his slicked back hair, held tight in a severe undercut. As he moved, Waylon could glance to his dressed down outfit. A short-sleeved dress shirt, black pants, and dress shoes to match. Well, dressed down compared to his near tuxedo attire that Waylon remembers him in.

Billy made his way into the room finally, yelling at the other two in a playful manner. Something about getting away from Waylon’s things.

Waylon turned, leading Eddie to the dining room, there he had set up everything pretty well organized. Waylon was sitting at the head, allowing himself to hide all his DM accessories and pieces. Dennis and Pyro sat on one side and Billy pulled his wheelchair to the other. Eddie was obviously taking the vacant chair beside Billy that was closer to Waylon.

As Waylon walked in, he also then maneuvered to the kitchen, seeming to turn on the oven then wandering back over.

“Alright, so, before we can fully start, Eddie,” Waylon looks to him, “We need to make you a character.”

“A. . .character?” Eddie seemed confused.

“Yes, I’m not sure if they told you, but we just started to play Dungeons and Dragons before Frank took off. . . And so, unless you’ve secretly been a nerd your whole life, I’m guessing I’ll need to help you out too.”

“Ah.”

“So to start, we’ll begin picking out your character race and class,” He pulled out a players handbook and slid it over to Eddie with a pencil and printed character sheets, “And yes, I hold onto everything so the facility doesn’t end up getting worried.”

Eddie took hold of the papers, glancing them over as he took them in, and the information he was going to have to learn to understand; he huffed, but a smirk rose to his lips in a rather. . . charming way. Eddie was actually amused.

“Very well, I’m all ears Waylon, you definitely seem to be the expert here.”

“Fantastic!” Waylon tried not to show nerves at that, “Like I said, we’ll look over the character races first.”

Waylon lead Eddie through the book over to the right chapter, letting him look through each of them on his own. Eddie was quick to absorb the information and flipped back and forth a few times before he ended on one, lowering the book.

“I think this one would be. . .suitable for me.”

“A tiefling?” Waylon grinned and looked at Eddie, a laugh hiding behind his smile, “You know I think you’re right. Well, we can go over some background in a moment or so but for now you mainly need to hang onto the page to help fill out the rest later.” He reached over and marked it with a red tab. “Now, it terms of class, Frank was playing a fighter, so I will admit that something with power would be appreciated in the group.”

“Power? Fighter?” Eddie questioned.

Waylon nodded and lead him through the class section. Pointing out the options that would reign in the idea of power. Pointing out the fighter, monk, barbarian-

“OH! Eddie should be a barbarian!” Dennis perked up suddenly, “The rage would match his.” A sly grin reached the man’s face.

Eddie blanched at that, taken back slightly and albeit, flustered as well.

“Only if he wants to,” Billy tried to ease the conversation.

Eddie flipped the page to the information on barbarians and read through, scoffing gently but he nodded, accepting his fate, “I see now what you all think of me.”

The room all laughed at his irked expression.

Character creation followed through with ease after a few brambles argued through. Eddie created a Tiefling Barbarian, named Lament. As he went through the rolling process for the skill checks, the others cheered on for him to place his well rolled 18 into his strength spot. Eddie found himself relieving a small level of anxiety with some soft laughter at their excitement. Maybe he was actually going to be okay with this.

“Hey. . .Waylon,” Eddie started as he looked over another part.

“Hmm?” Waylon smiled kindly at Eddie. He was too sweet for his own good sometimes, the older man thought.

“Well, would it be alright if I filled in these personality pieces later? After I figure more of this out?”

“Oh yeah, of course! People like to do that a lot when they aren’t sure how they want to play. You’ll probably build some story after a couple sessions.”

Eddie nodded and pulled himself back to his sheets, looking over what he wrote and everything. Waylon had explained everything pretty well to him and he found that he was catching onto the set up. Going from the bits explained, he knew he was choosing an often-disliked race, either in general, by the parent that made the deal, or even to themselves; Eddie could relate, as sad as that sounds. All in all, the virtue style of naming, the often outcasted feeling, hell, feeling like you’re sticking out like a sore thumb; maybe Eddie himself was a tiefling on earth.

Waylon looked over his previous notes and paused, smiling to himself as he realized something.

“We never really finished the fight, did we?”

“No, Manera threw the fucking table and ruined it all for the night.” Pyro huffed and sat back in his chair.

“Don’t worry, you will tonight then!”

A beeping goes off suddenly.

Waylon perks his head and gets up to head to the kitchen.

“Hey, Eddie. Come here a second,” Waylon waved him over.

Eddie paused, looking over the others who seemed unconcerned really. He sighed and gave in, getting up and following over, tilting his head slightly as he moved through the short doorway. Watching Waylon pull out oven mitts and retrieving an obviously previously frozen pizza from the oven.

He turned to Eddie and waved him to lean down, he had an idea about how the session should start off.


End file.
